


To the Lonely Souls

by WorryinglyInnocent



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), The Tournament (2009)
Genre: CW: Suicide Mention, F/M, Future Fic, Ghosts, Halloween, Haunting, Macelle - Freeform, Rumbelle - Freeform, rumbellavoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 09:39:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16473107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorryinglyInnocent/pseuds/WorryinglyInnocent
Summary: Whilst on holiday in Paris, Belle, Joseph and Rum and their children encounter a ghostly presence in their hotel room and try to help the poor lost soul to move on. A follow-up toThe Darkness Within, set many years after the main events.Bonus points if you can work out who the ghost is. ;-)





	To the Lonely Souls

“Do you ever get that feeling…”

Belle didn’t need to finish the sentence before Rum and Joseph both responded in unison with a resounding affirmative. Sitting on the train from Charles de Gaulle airport to the centre of Paris, she’d just had the feeling of someone walking over her grave, and she knew that it had affected Joseph and Gold as well.

She looked down at little Theo, dozing in her lap, still jetlagged from the flight from Boston. At least he didn’t seem to be affected, and neither did Victoria, who was quite happily occupying herself with a French phrasebook and trying to translate all the adverts on the inside of the train.

Belle stared out of the window into the late October sunshine. The feeling had passed, and all was well with the world again, but she was still on her guard. After everything that had happened with the Dark One, although it was years ago now, they were all attuned acutely to such strange sensations. With any luck, it would turn out to be nothing. A lot of these feelings did, just passing brushes with the supernatural where the barriers were at their thinnest. Still, to have a shiver like that at the beginning of a family holiday wasn’t exactly encouraging.

“ _La gare_ ,” Victoria said proudly as they pulled into a station; two more and they would be getting out at Gare du Nord. Belle just smiled.

Rum had been invited to speak at a conference on paranormal phenomena in Paris and they’d decided to take the entire family and make a trip of it, sightseeing in the city and then heading to Disneyland for a couple of days. Belle had been looking forward to the trip for weeks, and although the children were subdued after the long flight, they were excited too.

“Mama, are we there yet?” Theo asked sleepily. Belle cuddled him close.

“Not yet, sweetheart. Very soon.”

He nodded against her chest and returned to staring out of the window. Beside her, Rum smiled. Opposite, Joseph was helping Victoria with her pronunciation. Ella’s palm reading hadn’t lied. Belle was loving two men with all her heart, and she had two wonderful children.

Victoria was her miniature in every way: brown hair, blue eyes, and at seven years old already possessed of a voracious love of reading anything she could get her hands on. Three-year-old Theo took more after Joseph in looks, but he was still as fascinated by the written word as his sister – even if he was only just beginning to learn to read.

“Ok, we’re here now Theo. Stay close to Mama, there are lots of people about. Follow Daddy.”

As the member of the family who’d spent the most time in Europe and knew the most French, Joseph was nominally in charge of getting them to their hotel, and it was not a task that Belle envied him. At last, they arrived, and the formalities of checking in were over. If the receptionist was curious about their unusual family set-up, then she didn’t question it, and simply handed over the key cards and waved them in the direction of the lift.

“Do you want to flip for the sofa bed?” Joseph asked. Rum just laughed, and Belle rolled her eyes. They had a double room and a twin with a sofa bed; Rum would be heading out early to get to the conference centre and didn’t want to wake the kids whilst they would be sleeping off their jetlag. Tired and cranky children were one thing. Tired and cranky children on a different continent were quite another.

Joseph won, or lost, the toss, depending on what point of view one looked at it from, and he took the two kids into the twin room whilst Belle and Rum manhandled their luggage into the double next door.

The children were more tired than fractious during dinner, but in a way, Belle would have preferred if they were loud and boisterous as it would give her something to focus on other than the little shiver that they had all felt earlier. She really didn’t want to see it as a bad omen; she was determined not to. Nothing that had happened in their lives would ever come close to their dealings with the entity, but every so often, something made her paranoid.

By the time bedtime came, it was clear that she wasn’t the only one.

“Do you think everything’s going to be ok?” Rum asked, unpacking his pyjamas as Belle came out of the bathroom.

“I’m sure it will be. We all get these little shivers from time to time.”

“I know. It’s just so long since I last felt one, and now we’ve all had one at the same time.”

“Your last one was when you were at that haunted post office in Augusta.” Belle remembered the incident clearly. Rum and Joseph had gone to investigate claims of a ghost terrorising patrons of a local post office who were only trying to buy stamps. The trip had turned into quite the saga and they were putting the story into their next book. If they hadn’t been there and experienced it themselves they might have said that it was too fantastical to be true.

“Nothing’s going to go wrong,” she repeated. “I’ve had enough of being haunted to last a lifetime, thank you very much.”

Some would say it was fate; others would say it was bad luck. Whatever it was, the moment that Belle had finished speaking, there was a shriek from the room next door.

Belle and Gold looked at each other and Belle ran for the door, Gold following as fast as his cane could take him. They met Victoria in the corridor, white as a sheet and shaking.

“Mama!” Victoria grabbed Belle around her middle and buried her face in the front of her mother’s nightgown.

“It’s all right darling, we’re all here. What’s wrong?”

“There’s a ghost in our room!” Victoria sobbed.

“All right, sweetheart, you show me.”

She prised Victoria away from her legs and took her by the hand; Rum was already in the other room, propping the door for them. As they entered, Belle caught the briefest glimpse of something by the window, but it could have been a passing shadow. Joseph was comforting a clearly terrified Theo.

“It was right there!” Victoria exclaimed, pointing at the window. Belle looked to Joseph, who shrugged.

“I was brushing my teeth, I didn’t see it.”

“It was there!” Victoria persisted. “It was a tall man and he just appeared! You have to believe me!”

“I do believe you, Tori.” After everything that they’d witnessed in their lives, both together and individually, none of the adults were in any position to be refuting claims of supernatural sightings.

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first haunted hotel I’ve investigated in my time,” Rum said. “Most of the others had perfectly logical explanations.”

Victoria gave her father a positively withering look. If she said it was a ghost, then it was a ghost, and nothing Rum could say would change that. Deep down, Belle knew that as much as Rum liked to cling to his thoroughly scientific worldview, he believed just as much as the rest of them, especially when it came to the children.

“Well, there’s one way to find out,” Belle said. “It’s an old building, lots of history. Perhaps someone knows something about its past that can help us to shed a light on what’s going on.”

“Belle, it’s the middle of the night,” Rum pointed out.

“Reception’s open till one.”

It was a starting point for their miniature investigation, and it was better than sitting in a semi-dark room with two frightened children waiting for something to happen.

Belle went back to her and Rum’s room and pulled her jeans on under her nightdress, padding down the stairs to reception. It was quiet at this time of night, just before midnight, and the receptionist looked surprised to see her.

“ _Parlez-vous anglais?”_  Belle tried.

“Yes, I speak English. How can I help you?”

Belle smiled gratefully. “This is a strange question. Was this building something else before it was a hotel?”

The receptionist nodded unsurely, still not convinced that Belle hadn’t gone mad.

“It was a police station, I believe,” she said. “Is there anything else?”

Belle shook her head, deciding against asking her if anyone had died there. She was already looking weird enough as it was.

“Thank you.”

She made her way back upstairs, leaving the baffled receptionist to whatever theories she may have formed.

When she got back to the room, Rum and Theo had decamped, but Victoria was still there with Joseph, hiding behind a wall of pillows with just her eyes showing.

“Rum took Theo to the other room. Tori was determined to stay here and see it through.”

“I’m not scared anymore!” The fact that the statement was muffled by pillows implied the opposite, but Belle let it slide. Victoria was after all a girl after her own heart after all, determined to be brave no matter what.

Belle settled herself on the end of her daughter’s bed, sitting next to Joseph, looking at where the ghost had made its appearance.

“Will you come out please?” she asked. Joseph had always been an advocate of talking to things directly. “You’re scaring my children.”

Nothing happened, and Belle shook her head as a thought struck her.

“Honestly, what am I thinking? We’re in France, in a French building, and I’m talking to someone who’s probably a French ghost. In English.”

Joseph gave a huff of laughter. “Would you like me to translate?”

“I’m not sure whether that would be a good idea or not.” Belle sighed. “If he’s been haunting the hotel for a while then he might have picked up English from the other guests, and I don’t want to end up accidentally insulting him because your French, whilst good enough for getting us around the place, isn’t up to snuff for full-on discussions with the spirit realm. Although, that said, it might be a good gesture of goodwill.”

Joseph repeated Belle’s words to the ghost in French, and they settled down to wait for the outcome. Victoria, with curiosity getting the better of fear, peeked out from the huddle of blankets and pillows and then emerged fully, looking around the room for any sign of the supernatural presence.

“Did you get anything from reception?” Joseph asked.

Belle nodded. “The building used to be a police station.”

“Hmm. A prisoner who died in custody, do you think? Or an officer who can’t let go of the job?”

Belle shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe neither. Maybe an unfortunate previous guest. We won’t know until he appears.” She got comfortable against the headboard and Victoria leaned against her, still keeping an eye out.

“Suicides are the most restless spirits, aren’t they?” Belle asked Joseph. “Goes back to the whole suicide being a mortal sin thing.”

Joseph nodded. “Yes. My line of work always took me more towards miracles and possessions, but of the hauntings I investigated, suicides were disproportionately represented. People say that a suicide will always have unfinished business in the form of whatever it was that caused them to take their own life, be it depression or anything else.”

Belle shivered at the thought of those poor souls, still not at peace despite an end to their worldly suffering.

When Belle saw him, it was no sudden appearance. He came into view as if he had always been there, and she just hadn’t given him any attention until that moment, which she supposed was probably how ghosts worked. Whilst Joseph and Rum had told her many times that no two spirits were exactly alike just as no two living people were exactly alike, Belle liked to think that there were certain patterns that they followed.

He was standing by the window where Belle had seen the tiny flicker of movement earlier in the night, staring silently at the family. He was also, Belle noticed, dripping wet, although he wasn’t leaving a puddle on the floor. His clothing was indicative of a bygone age, probably early nineteenth century.

Belle glanced across at Victoria, who had buried her face in the covers again, but gradually she looked up and over at the ghost.

The thing that struck Belle was that there was nothing malicious about his presence. There was no little shiver down her spine like she had felt earlier in the day, warning her of something supernatural to come. All she could feel from him was an overwhelming sense of melancholy. This man was, she was certain, a restless suicide.

_“Vous avez travaillé ici?”_  Joseph asked. “Did you work here?”

The ghost nodded, and Belle heard the whisper of his voice without it really going in through her ears, which was an unnerving experience.

“I understand,” Joseph said, which was better that Belle as she hadn’t got a word of it. “You’re in conflict because your entire worldview was turned upside down overnight and it was already a pretty traumatic time. But it’s all right. You can move on, it’s all right. It’s a complicated world, I know. But I think you’ll be happier moving on. If it helps, I used to be a priest.” He paused. “You don’t understand any of what I’m saying, do you?”

The ghost made no comment, and Joseph tried again.

_“Pourquoi est-ce que vous êtes ici?_  Why are you here?”

The ghost blinked and spoke again.

_“Mon chapeau me manque.”_

Joseph’s brow furrowed.  _“Votre chapeau vous manque?_  You’re missing your  _hat?”_

“Well, if he particularly liked his hat and he wasn’t wearing it when he died…” Belle shrugged.

“You still look nice without it,” Victoria piped up. “I’m sure that no-one on the other side will mind if you don’t have a hat.”

The ghost just continued to stare until Joseph gave a halting and awkward pidgin translation, when he gave a fraction of a smile.

_“Merci, mademoiselle. Mais je ne suis prêt.”_

“No-one’s ever ready, I don’t think,” Joseph said. “But if you’re not ready, could you maybe leave us in peace tonight?  _Est-ce que vous pourriez nous laisser tranquil cette nuit s’il vous plaît?”_

The ghost nodded slowly.  _“Bien sûr. Merci, Monsieur le Prêtre.”_

He faded out of view in the same way as he had faded into it, without there being a defined moment when suddenly he was there and the next minute he wasn’t. Belle looked over at Victoria, who was sitting looking at the place where the ghost had been with her head on one side. The sense of something in the air had dissipated along with his presence.

“Has he gone, Daddy?” she asked.

“For now,” Joseph said. “I don’t think he’ll bother us again tonight. I think it might be a while before he moves on completely. To be honest, Tori, I think he just wanted someone to talk to him, which we did.”

Victoria nodded. “I suppose it must be lonely being a ghost, especially if you died a long time ago. All your friends would have moved on.”

She snuggled back down under her covers and Belle stroked her hair out of her face as she settled down to sleep, no longer fearful of the strange presence that had unnerved her before.

“I’m going to check on your brother, ok?”

Victoria nodded, and Belle slipped out of the room, leaving her under Joseph’s careful watch. Next door, Theo was curled up tightly around his plush puppy, fast asleep on her side of the bed with Rum dozing next to him. She leaned over and pecked a kiss to her son’s forehead; he shifted in his sleep a little but did not stir. Once Theo was asleep, he could sleep through most things, and evidently once the ghost was firmly in a different room, there was nothing stopping him from dropping off.

Rum opened his eyes and caught her hand, kissing the palm where the scar from the entity’s banishment had never truly faded.

“Crisis averted?” he asked.

Belle nodded. “Just a lonely soul in need of catharsis,” she said. “Joseph saw him straight; he won’t be bothering us again.”

“Makes you wonder how long he’s been here looking for someone to lend an ear. I think that’s the tragedy of ghosts sometimes. So much of what Joseph and I see in our line of work tends towards the malevolent and yet there are so many who are just lost and wandering.”

“Yes, you never really get called out to those ones though. They don’t tend to give people much trouble like the violent spirits do. Still. I’m happy that we’ve been able to help this one tonight, even if only temporarily.”

Gold nodded. “Yes. Sometimes talking to the other side helps them as much as us.” He levered himself up. “Do you want to get in? I can move over.”

Belle shook her head. “No, it’s all right. I’ll take Theo’s bed next door. I don’t want to disturb him.”

“All right then. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sleep well, Rum.”

He sat up properly, kissing her lips and nudging his forehead against hers. “You too. Don’t let the ghosts bite.”

“I really don’t think that this one’s going to bite, but I’ll keep my wits about me nonetheless.”

Victoria and Joseph were both still awake when Belle returned, but a sense of sleepy calm had settled over the room, and nothing more was said after good nights had been exchanged.

Despite the tiredness of the long journey hanging over her, the last vestiges of adrenaline were still sparking in her veins, keeping her awake, and she lay looking up at the ceiling for a long time. She wondered how many other lost souls there might be wandering around Paris, just looking for someone to share their story with and take that next step towards whatever lay beyond.

Belle glanced over at Victoria and Joseph, and she thought of Theo and Rum in the room next door. She had spent so much of her life alone whilst she had still been plagued by the entity, and now that she had such a large and wonderful family, she never wanted to be without them and have no-one ever again. It must be hard to be a lonely soul like their hotel room ghost.

She got out of bed, tiptoeing across the room and tweaking back the curtains to look at the bright lights of the city beyond. In the distance she could make out one of the bridges over the Seine, and unless she was very much mistaken, there was a hat sitting on one of the ornamental pillars. With a blink it was gone, and she smiled. Maybe their policeman had been reunited with his hat and would be able to move on to whatever was waiting for him in the great beyond after all.

It certainly wasn’t the most uneventful start to their holiday, but it was over now. Their family was calm and no longer disturbed, and whilst the lonely souls of Paris might not rest yet, they too were at peace for the moment.


End file.
